The Heart of the Matter
by kerithwyn
Summary: The truth comes out.


The Heart of the Matter

Fandom: Haven  
Characters: Audrey Parker/Duke Crocker/Nathan Wournos  
Rating: T  
Summary: The truth comes out.  
Notes: Clearly my brain has fled the premises and left only nonsense in its wake.

* * *

"Wait."

Audrey stared at Nathan and Duke as they stood, too close as usual, in the bar of the Grey Gull. It was past closing time and Audrey was grateful for that, if nothing else. The guys' daily standard-issue argument had flared into something particularly intense this evening, complete with almost-shoves and a lot of muttered insults tossed back and forth, allusions to incidents neither of them had shared with her. But in the midst of all the incomprehensible squabbling one thread finally became clear, and Audrey couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Wait. Are you telling me that you two have been fighting all this time—all those years—over _breakfast_?"

Nathan and Duke both turned to her, looks of genuine and nearly identical startlement on their faces. "It's not just—" Nathan started.

"It totally is," Duke half-shouted, and they were at it again.

Audrey put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. The sharp sound cut through the argument and they both looked at her again. "From the top. Nathan—"

"Pancakes," Nathan said with dignity, "are clearly the superior breakfast food."

"Waffles, you idiot," Duke said, his voice dripping with disgust. "Anyone with half a brain knows waffles are better. Pancakes are _boring._"

"Maybe the way you make them," Nathan shot back. Both of them, Audrey noted, seemed to have forgotten she was there.

"The way they exist, period! Flat, tasteless—waffles have character." Duke folded his arms, glaring.

"Waffles have pretentions of grandeur." Nathan's tone implied that anyone who preferred waffles must share that quality.

Duke snorted, the inference lost on him. "The hell does that mean? You mean, because a waffle has interesting texture and doesn't just lie there and get soggy while all the good stuff runs off the sides?"

Nathan shook his head and the motion put Audrey in his sights. "Audrey—"

"Nuh-uh," she said, backing away. "This is clearly a deep-rooted issue for you two and I'm not getting in the middle of it."

He looked hurt, like a lost puppy. "You're my partner. You're supposed to back me up."

"I don't actually—" she started, and then realized she was stepping onto a minefield. As far as Audrey was concerned, both pancakes and waffles alike were really just a delivery system. "Hold that thought."

Audrey stepped around the bar into the Gull's compact kitchen and examined the interior of the fridge. Most of the contents were easily identifiable, and the things that weren't bore no resemblance to what Audrey was looking for. She pushed aside a few packets of thawing hamburger and blocks of cheese before she spotted two likely suspects.

She took the glass bottles out of the fridge. They were unlabeled except for a piece of masking tape on each that read respectively, "A Medium" and "A Dark." The amber color of the substance inside looked right, if darker than Audrey was used to, but Duke bragged a lot about getting "the good stuff."

"Well, Alice, it's probably not poison," Audrey muttered, and pulled the stoppers off both to take a taste. She touched her finger to the lip of the first bottle: nice, kind of buttery, very sweet. The second bottle's flavor was richer, almost a little bitter, but more interesting.

She was bending to put the first bottle back where she'd found it when she spotted a third container: a glass mason jar adorned with a piece of tape that simply read "B." Curious, Audrey put the first two bottles aside and pulled the jar from the recesses of the fridge. Her eyes widened as she tasted its contents. From the color she'd been expecting a stronger flavor than the second bottle, pungent even, but the depth and complexity along with its rich subtle sweetness won her over immediately.

Audrey closed the fridge, jar in hand, and went back out into the bar. The argument had revived with full force and neither Duke nor Nathan glanced at her until Audrey cleared her throat, holding up the jar for them both to see.

"That's—" Duke choked.

"Your super-special Grade B secret-source maple syrup, I know. You've been holding out. Did it ever occur to either of you," Audrey said, running her finger over the lip of the jar, "that maybe you should think about what your preferences have in common?"

Nathan glanced at Duke and then back at her. "What was that about not getting in the middle?"

"Of an _argument,_" Audrey said. "But if you can agree to share..."

"Audrey," Duke said, his voice hoarse, "are we still talking about breakfast?"

Audrey rolled her eyes and thunked the jar down on the counter. "It's never been about breakfast with you two." She grinned at them. "But it could be about dessert."

The bar filled with a short-lived, extremely loud silence. "I think," Nathan said after a few beats, "we can agree that we both like...syrup."

"Yeah. Love the syrup," Duke said, his eyes a little glassy.

Neither of them moved to follow up. Maybe, Audrey thought with some despair, she should have applied the syrup to her neck like perfume except no, _sticky_ wasn't sexy unless it was mutually generated, and besides, she'd pretty much reached the end of the metaphor. And her patience.

She turned to take the jar back to the fridge and that seemed to break the stalemate. "Whoa, wait a second," Duke said from behind her. "You can't just wave...syrup...in our faces and then walk away."

"Well, since neither of you seem to want any of this—" Audrey started, but then Nathan's hand came around to push the jar carelessly down the length of the bar.

"I like the idea of you in the middle." He was close behind, still not touching; Nathan never initiated touch with her, as if given permission to touch her freely he might never stop. "Duke and I could learn to share."

"_Finally,_" Audrey sighed, and turned to step into his arms. Duke was right there too and Audrey reached out to draw him in.

The jar of super-special Grade B secret-source maple syrup fell off the bar and shattered.

None of them noticed.

* * *

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I'm a waffle girl, and therefore my ship destiny was predetermined when it came to this show. But syrup binds the universe together. _SHIP ALL THE THINGS._


End file.
